Love Is Stronger Than Death
by Purrsia
Summary: Lion Voltron story that supposes a different route for The Sleeping Princess episode and goes AU from there. Allura is thought to have passed, and Lotor does spirit her away. Now updating elsewhere. See profile.
1. Prologue

**Love Is Stronger Than Death**

_Prologue_

By Purrsia Kat

Title: Love Is Stronger Than Death

Fandom: Voltron, Lion Team

Author: Purrsia Kat

Genre: Drama, Angst, Romance - AU

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, Violence, Adult Themes, Character Death

Start Date: June 2006

Summary: Explores what might have happened if "The Sleeping Princess" episode came down differently: Lotor succeeds in spiriting Allura away, with the Voltron Force thinking she'd actually died and going from there. K&A with some L&A elements as well.

* * *

Keith walked along with his teammates behind the horse drawn carriage that carried the body of Princess Allura. They acted as pallbearers, their last task being to escort the body to the royal mausoleum where she would be laid to rest beside her mother. His vision was blighted by tears that seemed to have flowed non-stop since the Princess lost her fight to survive following an attack two days before by a native lizard whose bite was highly toxic and to which there was no antidote. The creature wasn't normally aggressive, or so he'd been told in the chaos that followed, but they must have wandered too close to its den causing it to strike out. One moment, they'd all been enjoying the sun alongside a lake, the next minute their lives were shattered by the spooked creature. It was a bitter irony that for all their worry when Allura began piloting the Blue Lion, sure they'd all lose her in battle against Doom, it was something unforeseeable that brought them here to do this somber task.

The service had been wrenching, seeing Allura lying there in her casket motionless as if asleep. Keith kept staring at her, as if his sheer will could spur her to breathe again. As eulogies were read, Keith replayed the scene at the lake in his mind over and over, trying to think if anything could have been done to save her. He'd turned his attention from her for but a moment to pick some flowers for her – an impulse he normally wasn't given to, but he remembered they were her favorite – a delicate white water lily. He didn't even care that the others were around to note the gesture. The afternoon was beautiful and he'd felt more carefree than he had in ages. And thought perhaps it was high time he did more to show Allura how he really felt. The fanciful reverie was shattered by Allura's screams. All he'd had time to do was turn around and see the creature take a firm bite into the arm Allura had thrown up in defense of her face. It scampered away as quick as it had attacked, and it amazed Keith how fast the venom in the bite affected her. She faded out of consciousness in his arms, and by late that night she drew her last labored breath. He'd berated himself ever since for not protecting her. If he hadn't turned away, if he hadn't reached for the flowers…so many ways another outcome could have been the reality. He knew it was no use beating himself up over it. It had happened so fast he still found it hard to believe she was really gone. Such a lovely, warm soul snuffed out in but a heartbeat.

He taken a sharp, faltering breath when he supposed to go before the casket and read a eulogy, and he knew he should. He'd been up the night before trying to put into words his impressions of Allura's life and the hole her untimely death would leave for them all to try in vain to fill. But words escaped him and nothing seemed adequate. It was just as well. He doubted he could muster the strength to stand before the assembly and speak, so he ultimately declined the honor. Some things didn't have to be said, he reasoned. But he also hoped that when she was alive, Allura had some sense of what went unspoken in his heart. Although some things he hadn't even been entirely aware of the force with which he felt them until he'd lost her. It was a bitter irony indeed.

When the time had come to lower the lid of the coffin, he hadn't been sure what was worse. Looking upon her knowing she was gone, or knowing as the lid closed that it would be the last time he'd ever see her face.

_It isn't fair_, his aching mind lamented as he walked, nay stumbled, along the rocky path up the hillside. There were moments where he feared he couldn't go on – part of him not wanting to make this final step because it was just that, so final. He was vaguely aware of their passing near the monument to the fallen royals of Arus, knowing too well a tribute to Allura would soon be added. As far as he was concerned, there weren't words to sum up what Allura meant to Arus, let alone what she meant to him – his attempt at a eulogy proved that. It had not simply been her beauty, but her heart and courage that Keith found so remarkable. There would never be another quite like her, of that he was sure.

He dared not look at his friends, although he could hear their sobs at times above the din of the ambling carriage. And he dared not try to contemplate the fate of Arus without its compassionate heir to the throne. Even thinking of Allura in better times was no good. The memories of their first meeting, the unspoken affection they had for one another, all of it simply reminded him of what was lost and things that would now never be.

Keith fixed his eyes on the royal crest emblazoned on the back of the carriage and tried not to think at all. When finally the carriage slowed, Keith walked around to the front to help a distraught Nanny and a drawn Coran down from the front seat. Without a word, the two headed into the grand stone tomb, leaving the remainder of the Voltron Force to the grim task of unloading the casket and carrying it to the final resting place.

He avoided the eyes of his comrades while they carefully steadied the coffin and brought it into the mausoleum, finally setting it down gently on a waiting pedestal adjacent to the Queen's casket. Inside, only those within the higher royal court were present for this last goodbye, including Allura's aunt, Queen Orla, whom Keith supposed would now inherit the Arusian throne.

For the longest time, everyone stood there in relative silence save for the stray sob or sniffle. That is, until Coran reached out and with a shaking hand, gingerly touched the lid of Allura's casket.

"Forgive me, Alfor. I have failed you," Coran rasped, his shoulders shaking with the force of new sobs. Nanny fell to her knees beside him and wailed mournfully.

Keith turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut to try to hold back his own fresh batch of tears, though it was no use. They fell, blazing a warm trail over his already wet cheeks. Coran, he knew, was wrapped up in his own guilt for the promise he made to Allura's father to look after her and keep her safe. From the moment he met her he wanted nothing more than to defend and protect her. He could definitely relate to how Coran felt, though he didn't know what was more unbearable – his own sorrow or witnessing that of the others.

One by one, each person present took their turn approaching the casket to pay their last respects and lay a single rose upon the closed lid. Keith went last, murmuring to a departing Lance not to hold the carriage up for him. Alone in the mausoleum and bathed in the light of the setting sun, Keith stood still in the silence for a long moment. He stared at the lid, as if making a last ditch effort to will her to open it and come dashing into his arms. But no, he would have to accept it.

He'd seen his share of death and he'd been to his share of mournful services for the fallen. Nothing in the galaxy, it seemed, could have really prepared him for this sad affair however. Allura's passing hurt him like no other.

With trembling hands, he reached out and laid his rose on the pile amassed on the coffin.

"Goodbye," he whispered into the eerie stillness. There was still so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't work past the lump in his throat to muster much more than a feeble farewell.

He walked out into the cool evening breeze, the others so far down the trail they were but a thin line from his vantage point. He looked out across the meadow in the valley to where the Castle of Lions stood high atop another rise across the way. Keith let out a faltering sigh before heading down the path. He wondered how much the Castle would feel like home now with Allura gone.

* * *

Dusk was fast giving in to the darkness of night on Arus, and a shadow crept through the doorway of the royal mausoleum. Lotor's eyes flashed with mischief as he approached the coffin that belonged to Allura.

_I thought they'd never leave_, he thought while raising the top portion of the lid. Inside lay a peaceful looking Allura shrouded among the soft petals of thousands of white flowers. They'd been placed there by her mourning subjects during the earlier service, and gave off a sweet scent. A crooked grin graced his face when he looked upon his prize.

"They really think you're dead, my beauty," Lotor whispered to her, though she showed no response. "I know better." He paused to take in her beauty, which never failed to captivate him.

He carefully reached in and lifted the sleeping princess out of the casket, careful not to disturb the pile of roses on the bottom portion of the lid. He wanted them to continue thinking she was dead to keep the risk down that they would even think to come looking for her, so the less things looked disturbed the better. Allura didn't stir, and Lotor was struck by how truly dead she seemed. No breath movements could be detected with the eye. It was only lucky for Lotor that Arusians didn't embalm their royals or perform autopsies, opening the way for this brilliant plot of Haggar's to take shape.

Coba, her cat, was disguised as a venomous lizard common to Arus – one that had been known to be found in increasingly unusual places due to the destruction from battles depleting its natural habitats. Haggar then had the cat deliver a potion with its ordinarily harmless bite that would mimic the effects of the real lizard's deadly bite, right down to the compounds that would show up in a victim's blood if they were to check. There would be no reason for them to suspect anything was amiss - just a horrible twist of fate that cost them their Princess. The only visible sign of injury were the puncture marks on her afflicted arm, which would heal in time.

However, the spell would wear off soon so Lotor had to be quick yet remain undetected. Coba jumped onto the open half of the casket lid, effectively closing it for the Prince. It let out an ear-splitting cry to signify this accomplishment.

"Thank you, kitty. You and your master will be rewarded well. But first, we have to get our prize safely back to Doom."

With that the duo crept out, Lotor clutching Allura near to him as they made haste toward the wooded area behind the crypt. There waiting for them was a different sort of coffin, one Doom used as a convenient and hard-to-detect transport.

Lotor laid Allura inside with utmost care, before positioning himself beside her. Coba filed in last curling up at Lotor's feet. It would make for a cramped ride home, but Lotor wasn't about to complain about being in close quarters with the woman he'd coveted from the moment he saw her. In fact, he'd relish it.

"Indeed, Arus, you have said goodbye to your Princess," Lotor uttered as the coffin lid closed. In seconds, the transport took off, carrying an unwitting Allura to a new life on Doom.

* * *

Keith sat in his room inside the Castle, staring dejectedly out into the star-filled sky. The mood in the Castle was tense and morose and he just had to get away from it. The talk of finding a replacement pilot for the Princess made him bristle the most, as it seemed so callous of Galaxy Garrison to have that concern as their chief reaction to Allura's passing. Although, the practical part of him understood that Zarkon would not wait and would likely take advantage of her absence once word got out. But still, the last thing Keith wanted to do was train a new cadet. He knew Allura loved her world and people above all else and that sooner or later he would have to do what he must to ensure he could continue to protect it. That would be what she would want him to do. No, he did not have the luxury to mourn extensively and mope about. In his heart, Keith knew this. But it didn't help him to feel less bitter that there was no time to even really mourn her properly. He felt nothing but anger, hopelessness and despair. True he wasn't the first one to lose someone dear to him, but it was so raw and painful right now Keith could see no point in time where he would ever be over her passing.

He chose to brood in his room for the moment. He didn't know what else to do right now, although he was sure if he'd mixed among the Castle crew it would be a matter of time before his pent up emotion would manifest in unpleasant ways. Being around the others aggravated the situation for him, so he told them he was turning in - even though he knew full well he couldn't sleep.

A shooting star caught his eye, although it was odd in the direction it swept off the horizon and up. Keith pondered it for a moment, but his aching head chalked the sighting up to his exhausted and overwhelmed mind not seeing things properly. But if wishes on stars came true, Keith sorely wished the events of the last few days never happened - that he could walk down the hall right now and bump into Allura, that his ears could hear her silken voice again. He tried to take comfort in thinking perhaps she was on the other side with her parents, and maybe her spirit was even looking down on him now. But somehow, even that evoked feelings of anger and despair.

Tears threatened to spill over again. Keith got up out of the chair and made his way to his bed where he buried his head in a pillow to sob. Despite his reckoning that he wouldn't be able to sleep, it was only a short time before his shuddering sobs subsided and his exhausted body gave in to the need for rest.

* * *

_Me & my friend were walking  
In the cold light of mourning.  
Tears may blind the eyes but the soul is not deceived  
In this world even winter ain't what it seems. _

Here come the blue skies, here comes springtime.  
When the rivers run high & the tears run dry.  
When everything that dies.  
Shall rise.

_--Love Is Stronger Than Death, The The_


	2. Perfect

**Love Is Stronger Than Death**

_Chapter 1: Perfect_

By Purrsia Kat

Lotor did his best to ignore the gasps and murmurs of bystanders as he carried the limp Princess of Arus in his arms through Castle Doom. They no doubt couldn't believe their eyes, and at times he still couldn't believe it himself. It actually worked! A plan was made and carried out to its success. The fools on Arus were none the wiser with nobody detecting his departure or giving chase. It was perfect. And now he had what he most wanted since he laid eyes on her – the beautiful Allura.

He walked briskly through the halls of the Castle, aware of a snide grin on his face that he couldn't subdue. He would glance down at Allura every so often and his grin would widen. She would come to enjoy her new home, or so he was convinced. He planned to shower her with anything she may desire - there would be nothing she would lack. In return, she would serve him loyally. As for what his father might have to say about it, Lotor didn't worry himself about it for now. He would not dare openly challenge his father again, but he was also determined not to let Zarkon intervene with his plans for Allura.

Lotor finally reached his destination after a lengthy elevator ride – an expansive suite near the top of the Castle where he would retire in the evenings. He stepped off the lift into the room, heading directly to a grand expanse of bed across the way. Lotor gingerly laid his burden down on the bed and stood back to admire her still-sleeping form.

"She is lovely."

Lotor spun on his heel to find Haggar standing nearby. On any other day, he'd snap at her for making such a sneaky entrance into his quarters, but his mood could not be sullied. Not with what he'd just achieved.

"When will the spell wear off?" he asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

"You're welcome," she shot back with notable sarcasm.

Although it was still true it would take a lot to sour his mood, Haggar was certainly trying his patience. He cast her a sidelong glance while waiting for her to answer his question.

"Soon," she said curtly when it became clear she was not going to get so much as a thank you for her role in the kidnapping. "Kitty told me you had returned." The blue cat emerged from behind the witch and meowed in Lotor's general direction. "I thought we'd come up and see the results of **our** handy work."

Haggar's heavy-handed hinting did not escape Lotor. "You will be rewarded well, Haggar. That is, _if_ she wakes up."

"You worry too much sire. She will wake very soon, but I must warn you she will be groggy at first. It's a gradual process."

Lotor studied his prisoner closely and took notice that he could now see the rise and fall of her chest as she took her breaths. So she was coming out of it. "Excellent."

"What do you plan to do with her?"

Lotor looked for signs that the old witch was kidding. "Need you even ask? She'll be my queen."

Haggar smiled knowingly. "You have to become King yourself, first."

Lotor chuckled, aware that Haggar wished to coax treasonous words from his lips. She would not have her way. "Everything will happen in time. But for now, I must leave here and see father to discuss our next move on Arus. I want her heavily guarded. She is not to leave this room. Of course, if she begins to awaken I want to be told immediately."

Haggar bowed slightly. "As you wish, sire."

* * *

"Hey, Keith. You awake?"

Keith raised his weary head up off the pillow and eyed Lance, who stood in his chamber doorway.

Keith could only manage to grunt something unintelligible.

"Better hustle," Lance said flatly without his usual enthusiasm, "or you're going to be late for the dedication of the memorial."

Lance disappeared out into the hall to leave Keith to the business of readying himself for the ceremony. It was late, he noted when glancing at the clock to see it past eleven. He'd really over slept, and with the dedication slated for noon, he had little time to get himself together. But instead of feeling any sense of urgency, he simply felt drained all over again and certainly not inspired to do much.

Sitting up on the bed, he shook his head. No, he had to get it together. Glancing at his sleeve, he noted the black band put there before the funeral was still wrapped around the upper arm – evidence that this hadn't been simply a bad dream.

He rose stiffly from the bed and staggered into the adjacent washroom, only bothering to splash some cool water on his face and half-heartedly attempt to tame his hair. Keith knew he should really make a better effort to have a proper appearance. The truth of it was it would be a miracle if he could drag himself to the memorial. At least he could count on Nanny being too bereaved to lecture him on how a gentleman would show more respect than to arrive at such an event in wrinkled clothes and unwashed. Small consolation.

Venturing out into the hall, Keith wasn't all too surprised to find it deserted. The rest of the team was probably already boarding carriages to take them to the valley. But as he passed the open door to the Castle study, he caught sight of Coran seated at the desk. The castle diplomat sat slumped down in the chair, which was such a marked departure from his usual impeccable posture. Keith noted a nearly empty wine flask resting atop the desk nearby.

Keith ducked into the library and cleared his throat, to which Coran simply glanced briefly and tiredly in his general direction.

"You're coming with us, aren't you Coran?" Keith asked, his voice sounding raspy and haggard from all the crying he'd done the day before.

Coran shifted his gaze out the window, his head bobbing a little unsteadily. "I have always served this kingdom and the royal family well."

Keith nodded, taking note of the man's slurred speech. "Of course. Nobody questions that."

Keith thought it seemed Coran aged a decade overnight, and he supposed strong drink wasn't helping that impression. Coran had dark circles under his eyes and as intoxicated as he seemed, Keith had to wonder if he'd been up all night with the bottle his only companion. Upon further inspection, he noticed several empty wine bottles stuffed into the trash container beside the desk, removing all doubt.

"Everything we've been through as a people and planet," Coran continued, his gaze still fixed on some point on the horizon beyond the window. He reached for the flask on the desk and disregarded the empty glass beside it in favor of taking a healthy chug directly from it. Coran drained the remaining liquid, a small trail of it escaping the corner of his mouth and dribbling down his chin. Coran unsteadily wiped at the errant liquid with his sleeve as he returned the empty flask to the desktop. It was rare indeed for Keith to see the dignitary so stripped of his stately veneer. He had no idea how to comfort the man. "And it came down to this. We're good people. Why does this keep happening to us? Why did it have to be _her_ of all people? Our Allura."

Keith sighed for he had no answers. Part of what made terrible twists of fate difficult was there often were no reasons.

Coran directed his puffy, bloodshot eyes at Keith. "I knew Allura since the day she was born. A delight. A sheer delight…always."

Coran closed his eyes as his voice trailed off and a small smile formed on his lips inspired by, Keith supposed, fond memories. He knew Allura a very shot time by comparison so he could only imagine how deep the loss cut for Coran. Coran then spoke a few other babbling sentences and it was clear to Keith that the man had reached his limit. Keith weighed whether it was such a good idea for Coran to go to the memorial under such influence.

Keith was about to leave, having made the decision not to press and go on without the royal advisor, when Coran fumbled his cane in an effort to get to his feet. Keith scrambled to help support Coran's wobbly legs.

"Here, let me help you to your chambers. You should probably go sleep this off."

"Memorial," Coran muttered. "I must…go."

Rather than argue, Keith gently led Coran to the man's quarters and guided him to the bed that indeed looked as if it hadn't been slept in the night before. Though the diplomat still uttered occasional protests, he did not put up a physical fight. In fact, he lay down on the bed more or less of his own accord. By the time Keith pulled up a blanket to cover Coran, he was already asleep.

* * *

Lotor broke from his war plans, leaving Mogor to hash out the last minute details when word came to him that Allura was stirring. The news even dulled his anger at his father, for not having made any prior plans running under the assumption Lotor would fail again. With much anticipation, Lotor dashed into his penthouse suite to see Haggar standing over the bed where Allura lay. The Princess moved about fitfully, her eyes fluttering open briefly now and then, but it was obvious she was not yet with her wits about her.

"She awakes, sire," Haggar remarked, her golden eyes sparkling with delight. "I assume you are pleased?"

"Yes, very. Now leave us."

Haggar's eyes narrowed at the curt dismissal. But she did not quarrel or tarry. Once the old hag was gone, Lotor put all his focus back on Allura. She was in her formal attire, looking every bit the feminine beauty he'd longed to possess. He slid into bed beside her, putting an arm around her to still her restlessness. She responded to the touch by turning and looking up at him briefly through glazed eyes. She muttered something soft and incoherent.

"You're home, Allura. With me," Lotor assured her, figuring she might as well get used to Castle Doom as her home. He pulled her close to him, close enough that he could feel the beating of her heart. She looked up at him again and held his gaze, causing his own pulse to quicken considerably. He was surprised she didn't act repulsed by the sight of him. "Mmm, so perfect," he murmured, studying her delicate features and wondering why he'd been advised in the past that fantasies don't often measure up in reality. Up close, she was every bit his ideal with no distressing flaw to be detected.

Allura remained close, looking at him almost expectantly. Sensing a window of opportunity, Lotor leaned in and tasted her lips. And when the sharp slap across the face he expected never came, he increased the passion and fervor of the kiss. It was almost too good to be true when she reciprocated. He desired to possess every part of her as his passion built. That is, until she broke off the kiss briefly to utter something that replaced his passion with ire.

"Keith," she said dreamily, her speech slightly slurred while looking once again into Lotor's eyes.

Lotor felt his temper flare and rolled off the bed, the mood of the moment tempered by her utterance of that name. Of course he knew she was still not in her right might, but it galled him to no end that she only kissed him willingly because she though he was not just someone else but _Keith_. He could feel the urge to rage coming on and decided it best he go elsewhere lest he take it out on Allura. Leaving Allura behind safely locked away in his suite, he thought it best to direct his fury in a far more deserving direction – Planet Arus, and most of all, the Black Lion pilot.

Storming off the lift and into the hallway, he was about to make his way back to the war room when Haggar emerged from the shadows. He grimaced, in no mood to deal with her.

"Sire, I –"

"Not now," he snapped without so much as a break in his stride.

"I can make her love you."

Lotor stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around to face the witch. It unnerved him that she always knew what was going on. "What?"

"You have Allura in body, but not in mind and spirit, Lotor. I can use my magic so that you may possess her on every level," Haggar explained.

Lotor paused to consider it, only to ultimately brush it aside. "No, I'll win her over. She can't pine for her hero forever, especially after I kill him and decimate her planet. She'll have nothing left and no one to turn to but me." Besides, Lotor thought, it troubled him to think what Haggar would demand for such services. She was already nagging him for compensation for her earlier spell.

Haggar's response was a light chuckle, which irritated Lotor. "You're quite the charmer."

"He's got all the charm of a rattlesnake."

Lotor turned to see his father, King Zarkon, standing behind him. "Hello, father," Lotor responded, the last word dripping with contempt.

Zarkon looked his heir over for a moment. "You don't know the first thing about women, Lotor. You'll never win her over the way you hope to. Women of virtue don't simply fall in love with the likes of you. This is why I say we use her to force Arus to surrender. We'll win without firing a shot or losing a single ship."

"I see," Lotor scoffed, deeply insulted that his own father found him so contemptuous and unlovable. "For not having faith in my plan before, you certainly want to tell me how to finish it out now that the hardest part is done. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" challenged Zarkon. "Seems to me you're well on your way to letting your 'feelings' for a woman lead you down the path to ruin again. You'll never learn."

Lotor's cheeks burned with the rage at such insults. "Winning over Allura is just a bonus – Arus and the Voltron Force have their days numbered regardless. I'll just take extra pleasure in taking the captain out personally."

He looked to Haggar for support, but she remained silent choosing to let a peculiar smile on her unsightly face speak for her. Of course, she would pick now to be petty, leaving him out to dry because he wasn't quick enough for her in his rewards. Lotor glared at her before turning back to his father.

"Your way just gives them time to find her and rescue her," Zarkon countered.

"They think she is dead, father. They should keep thinking that. If we use her as a hostage, then they _will_ try to come here and rescue her. Is that what you want? Voltron on Doom? They've never taken the offensive on us before under the foolish notion that they're 'defenders'. Their Princess held hostage here will give them a noble reason to invade." Lotor was satisfied when Zarkon remained quiet, emboldening him to go on. "They expect us to get wind of Allura's untimely passing and to take advantage of their lack of a pilot for Blue Lion. We should not disappoint them. But the more we wait, the more time they have to rally their allies."

"Not wanting to waste time…this is why you broke from war plans to go make a play for your Princess?"

Lotor's jaw went slack for a moment. If his father had a shred of faith in him, _he_ would have the war plans drawn up by the time he'd returned with Allura. Lotor thought he'd earned the right to revel in his victory a little. "I was just—"

Zarkon silenced him with a wave of his scepter. "You were just being typical Lotor, following the orders of your little general. Mogor told me you went rushing off the moment you heard she stirred. Not that I couldn't have guessed."

Lotor clenched his fists, his mind filling with murderous contempt for Mogor. He'd act on it, too, if he thought he could ultimately get away with it and not stoke his father's true anger. "Okay," he seethed. "You've made your point. But my plan has worked so far. Let me see it through. You won't be disappointed."

Zarkon paused, and when his answer came it still made the hairs at the nape of Lotor's neck stand on end. "Don't fail."

As his father departed the hallway, Lotor turned his attention back to Haggar. She was still standing there with that stupid smile on her face, in addition to chuckling softly and the audacity of it incensed Lotor.

"Don't you have a pot you should be stirring, you old hag?" Lotor barked before stalking off to the war room. He only hoped Mogor was there to further give him an outlet for his rage. They would all soon see the grand wisdom of his plan and regret the day they ever doubted him.

* * *

Keith slowed his steed to a mild gait as he neared the last rise before reaching the valley. The green of the fields were broken on either side of the path by stark white head stones dotting the landscape for as far as the eye could see. The markers all matched, and Keith knew they marked the graves of those who fought and lost to defend the Castle against Zarkon in the first devastating raid on Arus. Most likely, they were young souls who once had their whole lives ahead of them, their potential and momentum in life cut tragically short. Not unlike Allura. It was a depressing backdrop to an otherwise serene scene. As if it wasn't bad enough that he couldn't stop obsessing about death, it surrounded him now no matter where he looked.

Finally, he crested the hill and could see the gathering a short distance below in front of the monument. Though he was out of the cemetery, Keith dreaded what lie ahead more. Nothing was ahead of him but more sorrow, tears and anguish. He didn't blame them for the emotion – he felt them himself – but being constantly surrounded by it all was wearing on him.

The ceremony would start any moment now, but at least he hadn't missed anything. Few took notice outside a passing glance as Keith approached and dismounted the horse. He left the animal to graze in the meadow and joined the other team members at the site. He chanced a glance at the remaining Voltron Force and noticed they looked just as bedraggled and unkempt as he did. Pidge cast a forlorn look at Keith before frowning with concern.  
"Where's Coran?"

"He's…resting," Keith replied, thinking it best not to divulge too many details.

"Oh. I thought he was supposed to head the dedication." Pidge looked to Keith expectantly, and Keith got a sinking feeling Pidge – along with likely most everyone else – would expect the captain of the force to do the honors.

Keith looked helplessly to Lance and Hunk for support and found little, for they seemed to be of like minds. "Guys, I ---" Keith began, faltering as he searched for a fitting excuse. "I really think an Arusian should do this."

"I don't think they'd mind," Lance countered, indicating the gathering of dignitaries and court members from kingdoms around Arus. "We're practically citizens for all we've been through to bring this world back and defend it. Besides, I think it would mean more if you did the dedication. These people respect you."

Though Keith agreed Arus felt like home, Keith scanned the gathering and still felt no urge to make himself the focus of attention. But then Lance gave him little choice. Clapping Keith on the back, Lance moved them both forward out of the crowd and cleared his throat.

"I regret to inform you that Coran is not feeling well," Lance announced, gaining the full attention of the gathering. "In his stead, Captain Keith will oversee the dedication of the monument."

The somber group politely and lightly clapped while Keith begrudgingly accepted his fate. He made his way to the stone, which was for now covered by a canvas material, all too aware of the eyes upon him. Just as he was about to reach out and pull the canvas down to reveal the hard work that went into the creation, a palace guard cut through the crowd. Keith frowned at the intrusion, thinking the message must be urgent to interrupt such a ceremony. And indeed it was. The guard informed him that Prince Bandor, of Planet Pollux, had called into Castle Control seeking council with Coran or the Voltron Force. Whatever his news, it sounded urgent. Keith had little choice but to sheepishly bow out of the ceremony, and in an opportunity he couldn't miss, appointed Lance his successor before riding back to the Castle.

* * *

Passing by a cemetery,  
I think of all the little hopes and dreams,  
That lie lifeless and unfilled beneath the soil.  
I see an old man fingering his perishing flesh.  
He tells himself he was a good man and did good things.  
Amused and confused by life's little ironies,  
He swallows his bottle of distilled damnation.

_Oh, what a perfect day,  
To think about myself  
My feet are firmly screwed to the floor.  
What is there to fear from such a regular world?_

_  
People turn around with unseeing eyes.  
They're looking for something that doesn't exist.  
The world you once knew is being eaten up by rust.  
No-one has time for the past, but still, in God they trust.  
The future is now, but it's all going wrong.  
Bodies good for nothing, but it's to nothing they belong._

_Oh, what a perfect day,  
To think about myself  
My feet are firmly screwed to the floor.  
What is there to fear from such a regular world?_

_--Perfect, The The _


	3. Uncertain Smile

**Love Is Stronger Than Death**

_Chapter 2: Uncertain Smile_

By Purrsia Kat

Allura's senses slowly came back to her. Her head ached and she felt slightly nauseous and light-headed but noted she was otherwise okay. Ironically, the more she came to her senses the less her surroundings made any sense at all. She sat upright on the bed, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar room frantically for any clues as to where she could be while wracking her brain trying to figure out how she got to such a place. The mild nausea increased ten fold as she realized that something was horribly wrong. She was certain she was nowhere on Arus, and when her eyes fell on a framed oil painting on the opposite wall her heart skipped a beat. She did not recognize the figure, but she recognized the race – Drule. Put together with the surroundings that were so dark and foreign to her, there was only one conclusion to draw: she was on Doom.

She slid off the silky coverlets on the bed and ran to the window on the other side of the room. To her dismay, she could see she was up far too high to jump, and the castle walls were not conducive to scaling. The landscape was rocky and foggy farther out, but lights shone up from below the castle, and Allura could make out that there was some kind of stadium below, although anyone in it looked like tiny dots from her vantage point. Not far below the window were some of the most hideous looking vultures she'd ever seen. They circled endlessly, biding their time for any scrap of carrion they could spot.

Allura shook her head furiously and smacked her palms against the panes of glass.

"No!" she cried, unwilling to accept her fate. She still could not remember how this could be true. Her last memory involved getting off a boat on a sunny early autumn afternoon near the Castle of Lions, and enjoying smiles and laughs with the other members of the Voltron Force. There was no danger of Zarkon or Lotor, and she remembered they were all so happy and relaxed. To find herself in this awful place now confounded Allura.

She blinked back tears and stepped away from the window. She had to keep her head if she had any hope of getting home. The others, she knew, would be trying to rescue her of course but she wasn't going to simply sit idly by waiting for it. No, she had to act.

Whirling around, she gasped to see two figures standing near the bed she'd vacated moments before. She hadn't even heard Lotor or the witch Haggar come in, so preoccupied as she was with her predicament.

She stood there gaping at the pair with wide eyes, words defying her. When Lotor took a step toward her she instinctively backed up until the window was at her back.

"Allura," he said cautiously, extending his gloved hand. She didn't care for the devilish twinkle in his eye. "Don't be afraid."

"Stay back," she warned, pressing herself harder against the window. Her heart was pounding so furiously she feared it might leap out of her chest.

Lotor took another step toward her. "Believe me, if I'd wanted to harm you I could have done so while you were helpless. Come to me, Allura." The fingers on his extended hand curled toward him, beckoning her to come to him.

"N-no, stay away," she pleaded. Allura turned and placed a hand upon the latch holding the window shut.

Haggar snickered in her gruff, sinister way. "There's no doubt she's wide awake now."

Lotor shot Haggar an unappreciative glare. "Silence, hag."

He turned his attention back to Allura, quickly changing his expression from irritated to what Allura assumed was his attempt to appear inviting and reassuring. But the only way he appeared to Allura was smug and dangerous. He took two more steps in her direction causing her body to tense fiercely. She gripped the latch on the window, trying her best to get it to release.

"Don't come any closer," she rasped, still working at the latch with trembling fingers.

She glanced at Lotor, who seemed unconcerned. "There's nowhere to go. You'll fall to your death from that window."

Allura heaved on the latch and cried out in surprise and pain when it gave, for she'd sliced a gash in her hand in the process. She regained her resolve and cast Lotor a determined look. "I'll do just that if you don't stay back."

She could tell the implication that she'd rather die than suffer his touch stung Lotor, and a bit of pity stabbed at her heart for saying something so cruel to someone, as apparently, even Lotor had feelings that could be wounded. Of course, she did not wish to die either, but if she could use the threat of taking her own life to get him to back off and buy herself time it was worth a try.

She pushed the window open, the hinges groaning in protest when the heavy panes swung outward like a pair of French doors. Wind rushed into the room with a howl, and Allura could barely hear the plaintive cry of the vultures above it. She pushed her wind-blown golden locks out of her face and eyed Lotor warily. His mouth was moving but she could not hear his words above the din, although he did look genuinely alarmed. To make things look good, she hoisted herself up on the low sill and crouched there, teetering precariously. The wind gusts were furious at this height and Allura questioned the wisdom of her plan while forcing herself not to look down.

"Leave me alone," she shouted in Lotor's direction, her voice strained with fear.

To her relief, he backed off and began to return to Haggar's side rather than complete his advance toward her. She didn't like her perch any more than he did, and was about to put her slippered feet back on the floor when one of the vultures swung by close knocking her off-balance. Allura's eyes flew open wide and she screamed. She flailed for an agonizing moment on the sill, unable to grab the frame adequately, before toppling over the edge. The next thing she knew, she had an aerial view of the arena far below and nothing to clutch onto.

The terror that filled her mind was unfathomable as she began to fall. It had her mind in such a steely grip that she didn't comprehend at first when her descent was abruptly stopped until she swung in and hit the Castle wall with a painful thump, pain ripping through her shoulder. She looked up to find Lotor leaning out the window with one of his strong hands tightly gripping her slight wrist.

"You don't mind my touch so much now, do you?" Lotor asked as the winds died down momentarily, hurt still burning in his yellow eyes. For a brief second, she wondered if he was simply tormenting her and would let her drop. But he responded to the pleading look in her eyes and slowly pulled her up to him.

Once he had her safely back inside, she was glad to be gathered into his muscled arms if for a moment, for her fear of falling to a horrific death overrode her fear of the dark Prince. Never mind that her reaction was giving away the fact that her threat against herself was a ruse all along. Allura was shaken out of the moment when Haggar's magic brought the window shut with a bang and sealed it decisively.

"Problem solved," the old witch announced with a soft cackle.

Allura backed out of Lotor's embrace and he allowed it without protest. She thought about at least thanking him for saving her but the shock of her situation – and Lotor being so near - kept her from forming the words. Instead, she stood there cradling her injured hand near her heart and kept her eyes downcast. What fate had in store for her, she could not guess. She only hoped the team would get there sooner rather than later.

"Now do you believe I would hurt you?" Lotor asked her in a somewhat demanding tone. When she failed to answer, he changed tacks. "You're hurt," he observed, reaching out to her. "Let me help you."

"You can help me by letting me go home," Allura said softly while turning away slightly from his offered hand.

Lotor reached out and caressed her injured hand anyway. "I can't do that."

Allura looked up at him, her eyes flashing and rimmed with fresh tears. "You can't or you won't?"

Lotor's expression hardened briefly as he let go of her. "You left me no choice. You wouldn't give me the time of day before, Allura. This was the only way. The only way I could hope for you to give me a chance. I love you Allura, and in time you will accept it as the truth."

Her jaw went slack as she realized he believed what he was saying. He really believed kidnapping her would somehow win her over. Of course she wouldn't ever consider his love, as he liked to call it. He was a monster that had tried on more than one occasion to destroy Arus, enslave its citizens and been guilty of a thousand other crimes against humanity throughout the galaxy. Indeed she had no interest in getting to know the man behind such horrific deeds, decrees of love for her notwithstanding. From where she stood, the only thing she was sure Lotor loved was himself.

"You won't get away with this," she blurted, her voice shaking with emotion.

"I already have," he retorted with an air of smugness that grated on Allura.

"The Voltron Force will see to it that it won't be for long."

Haggar's rippling laughter sent a chill through Allura. At first, Allura thought perhaps she wasn't the only one who had been victimized given recall of her capture was still so vague in her mind. "What have you done to them?" she demanded.

"Don't worry your pretty head," Haggar assured Allura. "They're fine, if a little heartbroken."

Allura looked from Haggar to Lotor and back again for clues to what the old witch was driving at.

"They think you're dead," Lotor said bluntly, filling in the blanks for Allura. "They won't come for you because they don't know you're here. You might as well start considering Castle Doom home like it – or **me** – or not."

Allura's features contorted with her grief as bitter tears spilled over onto her cheeks. The news was crushing, and the hopelessness that filled her heart was nearly unbearable. The only time in her life she'd ever felt such overwhelming anguish was when Zarkon's attack took her parents from her, many of her people, and almost leveled the Castle with her and Coran still in it. But worse than her own fate, however, was the thought of what they planned to do to her friends and her planet in her absence. With nobody to fly the Blue Lion, Arus was easily at the mercy of Zarkon's next attack.

She found the courage to look into Lotor's strange eyes, fully aware that she didn't have much to barter with but her affection that he seemed to desire. "Please," she implored. "If you truly love me as you say you do, hear me. My people have been through enough. Spare them. I'll do anything."

His brow arched slightly as he eyed her with suspicion. "That is out of my hands, Allura. The war with Arus was going on long before I came back home. That fight is my father's, and you know that. So don't worry – you won't have to whore yourself out to me to save them."

Allura sank to her knees, still holding her hand to her chest, and uncaring of the blood she was getting on her gown. She sobbed, knowing full well without her in Blue Lion her world was about to face more devastating times, perhaps worse than ever before. And she was powerless to help them or even warn them.

She heard Lotor's footsteps retreating, her emotion eliciting his anger. He paused briefly. "Oh and you're welcome for saving your life," he added before leaving her alone inside the room.

Yes, he had. But to what ends? Allura felt his fascination with her was a fantasy built on lust more than genuine love. She had to wonder about when the reality of her didn't measure up – or when she got old or he became otherwise bored with her – if he wouldn't just amend that good deed. Everything was disposable in Lotor's world, and Allura didn't think she was above it.

* * *

Keith settled into the seat in the Castle of Lions Control Room and opened the channel. Prince Bandor, young Prince of Pollux, greeted him as a larger than life image looming on the telescreen before Keith.

"Prince Bandor, you needed to speak with me?"

"Yes," Bandor replied. "But first let me extend my deepest condolences on behalf of Pollux for the loss of your Princess Allura. I regret I could not attend the funeral."

Keith nodded, knowing Bandor could see it and waited for the Prince to continue.

"I'll keep this brief. I know you've got plenty of things to attend to in light of the sudden death of Allura. But I fear you'll have even more to deal with sooner than you thought."

Keith's brow furrowed. "Zarkon?"

"Yeah," Bandor confirmed. "I know you've probably been expecting him to hear about Allura as well and take advantage of a lack of a pilot for Blue Lion."

Keith nodded again.

Bandor's visage grew regretful. "But a mole I have on Doom trying to gain information on my sister's whereabouts noticed there's some kind of excitement on the planet and a sharp build-up of arms. I think they may already know and are planning to move much quicker than anticipated. I thought you might like a bit of a warning so you can try to be prepared."

_Already?_ Keith thought. Aloud, he said, "Galaxy Garrison has a replacement pilot en route. Do you have any indication of how soon this attack could happen?"

Bandor looked increasingly grim. "I'm afraid it looks imminent and massive. A matter of days if not hours."

Keith tensed, knowing they would not have the pilot there much less trained in that short a time. But then he supposed, Allura being the ruler of such a focal planet in the Denubian Galaxy, word of her death was bound to travel faster than anyone else who met an untimely death. Thinking on it, he really wasn't that surprised after all at this bit of unsettling news. They'd have to hope the four Lions and any other back-up they could muster could hold off Zarkon.

"Thank you for the warning, Bandor. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry about what happened to Romelle, too."

"I know. We still hold out hope of bringing her home," Bandor replied. "But if you need any help against Zarkon, just let me know. What Arus has done for us we can't ever repay, and I know Romelle would agree. Besides, I really owe Zarkon and Lotor."

"Will do. I'll relay your message to Galaxy Garrison."

* * *

Lotor looked upon the robeast inside Haggar's laboratory, unable to mask his disinterest. He was still fuming about Allura.

Haggar rapped her staff on the floor impatiently. "Young Prince, you must pry your thoughts from the fair lady a moment and pay attention. Zarkon wants us to strike Arus as soon as inhumanely possible and that requires you to be familiar with my latest toy's capabilities."

Lotor sighed. The old witch had a point, and he found it highly ironic that he finally had Allura as his captive audience but was still so dissatisfied. No, he hadn't expected the Princess to be thrilled about her predicament, but Lotor was an impatient soul and he simply wanted to enjoy her. He tried to convince himself that time was all he needed to sway her and ignore the fact that her spirited nature was part of what attracted him to her even though now he was finding it a nuisance. Her feistiness was one reason he would not allow Haggar to intervene with magic, though he may consider it if it persisted too much. But on the other hand, his ego wanted her to come to him willingly, to admit her judgment on him was wrong and that he had conquered her on every level himself. So he cheated a little to get her in such a position to begin with. He had to do something fast or be forced to marry that wretched Koral.

"I know," he conceded. "But I'm sorry to say that Arus doesn't interest me. The only thing I wanted from that planet, I have." True, he'd wanted to lash out at Arus when he anger had flared earlier, and he'd still love to take Keith out of commission personally, but his temper came and went, and with it went the desire to do much other than focus on winning over Allura.

"You may not have that for long if you don't concern yourself with your father's wishes. If you blow this, Lotor, he may take it out on Allura to punish you. Have you thought of that?"

Lotor grimaced as his resentment of his Father and the power he held flared. "If he wants Arus so bad, he should go conquer it himself! Although, there is one thing I'd like to do personally," he added with a sly smile, his thoughts turning to Keith again. Allura could not pine for the affections of a dead man.

"As usual, you don't think far enough ahead, Lotor. If you conquer Arus, you'll be regaled throughout the Drule Empire and **your** sphere of power and influence will grow to surpass Zarkon's. That, coupled with a union with Allura, and you will be primed to become King," Haggar suggested slyly.

"I like how you think, Haggar," Lotor agreed, seeing now the wisdom of focusing on Arus. The fact that leading the attack would likely alienate Allura farther did give him pause, but as he originally surmised, she'd have little choice in the matter regardless. She was **his** now, and though he would prefer that she came to his bed willing, she would eventually warm it one way or another. Perhaps putting down the Voltron Force and conquering Arus would break her spirit enough so that she would just submit to him once and for all. That still may be considered forcing her hand, but at least it was due to force **he** exerted and not Haggar's magic doing so.

"Like it enough to hear what I'd like for compensation – my gnarled hand was instrumental in making your greatest wish come true, after all," Haggar pressed.

Lotor supposed he could put it off no longer. "What do you want?" He found it interesting she was bold enough to set the terms herself, but he had to admit he was curious about what she would demand.

"Rather than the usual promise of a new supply of brooms and crystal balls," she sad dryly, "I'd like to propose that when you become King that I share the throne."

Lotor eyed her closely. "You know I'm to marry Allura."

Haggar laughed heartily. "Fool, I wouldn't wish for matrimony between us for any price. I mean to share the power of the throne along with you and your Queen of course. Not to simply serve below you as I am now."

Before Lotor could respond, guards ushered in a slight and frightened looking human. "Sorry to interrupt sire, but we caught this one sneaking around the Castle. He's from Pollux."

Lotor looked upon the man with contempt. "Pollux, eh? So little Bandor is sticking his nose in. How much of his family do I have to slaughter before he takes the hint?" Lotor unsheathed his laser sword and held it menacingly close to the captive's throat. "What have you told him?"

"N-nothing," the man sputtered.

Lotor pressed the searing blade into the flesh of the man's cheek, the stench of burned flesh mingling in the air with the man's ear piercing cries of agony. "I don't care for that answer," Lotor growled. "Try again. Last chance."

"I—I reported to him it seemed you were ready to attack Arus to take advantage of Allura's death sooner than thought. He was to relay the message to Castle Control," the spy admitted. "Along with news about Romelle."

Lotor was glad to hear him mention Allura's "death", as it meant his secret was still under wraps. As for Bandor, he had a little ace in the hole – literally – for that brat. But first, the little lackey he sent was going to pay for his snooping. Ignoring pleas from the man for mercy, Lotor took obscene pleasure in running his blade clean through the spy's chest. That was one spy that had relayed his last message.

* * *

That evening in the Castle's lounge room the Voltron Force was gathered, waiting while last minute preparations were being made for Queen Orla's coronation. Nanny had not been herself, and so the rest of the staff scrambled to get things in order. It made everyone appreciate just what kind or work the governess had always done, even as overbearing as she could be at times. Coran had also been a scarce presence, although Keith suspected the man had perhaps the worst hangover of his life and was in no mood besides to deal with the hectic atmosphere inside the castle.

Keith had at least cleaned himself up better. The shower he took earlier was cleansing in more ways than one and it cleared his head enough to ponder Bandor's earlier message more deeply, having shared the information with the rest of the team.

"I'd still like to know what Zarkon is up to. I mean, _really_ up to," Hunk muttered.

"It's low to kick someone when they're down, but what did we expect?" Lance responded, while picking absently at some greenery that was on the table beside his chair. "We'll just have to hope the high alert status pays off and the four Lions can handle whatever he throws at us. At least, until that new pilot arrives."

Pidge slowly nodded. "Yeah. We've beat him back without Voltron before. We could do it again."

Hunk sighed. "We're going to have to warn the new guy about the Curse of the Blue Lion. First Sven got hurt, now this."

Keith listened to his teammates, but remained quiet. He was trying not to think too much about how badly Allura's absence weighed on his mood. She had always sat in on their meetings like this, helping add a little warmth to the room. He looked up to the light globes hanging from the ceiling and noted the Space Mice weren't on their usual perch. They too seem to be too grief stricken to get back to any semblance of normalcy. However, the rest of the team wasn't going to have that luxury, if one wanted to call wallowing in loss luxurious. Keith sighed and his eyes moved to the clock on the wall. They still had quite a bit of idle time to burn. Time seemed to move too slowly anymore, he noted.

Lance suddenly stood up and gave the potted plant he'd been picking at a harsh shove with his booted foot off the table, where it shattered on the steel floor below.

"What was that all about?" Keith asked, wondering what caused such an outburst.

"Nothing," Lance snapped, although it was clear the Red Lion pilot was bothered by something.

"Come on," chided Pidge. "Don't let an innocent house plant die in vain. Tell us."

Lance glared over at Pidge, and just when it seemed he was going to simply remain mum, he spoke. "I'm pissed off."

"We can see that," Hunk interrupted.

Lance looked away, and Keith feared the interruption was going to silence the rest of his reply. Keith rose and walked toward Lance, his intentions to try to calm his friend down from whatever was suddenly making him boil over, when to his surprise he found himself blocking a punch thrown by Lance with his hand.

"Hey!" Hunk shouted, rising to his feet and moving as if to get in between the two but Keith waved him off with his free hand.

Though Lance kept his face down and eyes averted, Keith could see his cheeks were wet with tears. Keith lowered Lance's clenched fist until it fell harmless at the brooding man's side, and waited quietly to see if Lance cared to explain himself. None of them were themselves and it only seemed to anger Lance to push him to confess.

When he finally did speak, it was barely above a whisper at first. "If she had died in battle and we lost her to Zarkon…." He began, trailing off to stifle the hitch of a sob. "At least—at least I'd have been prepared for that. And I'd have something to strike out at, somewhere to put all this hurt and anger."

Keith swallowed hard, not knowing what to do and feeling rather awkward. He'd felt a similar frustration and didn't know how to find a good outlet for it either. The one person who probably would have known exactly what to say was Allura. It was a rather ironic thought.

Just when the ensuing silence was getting unbearable, Pidge looked up at them over the top of his glasses and said, "Well, I could get you a stuffed lizard to punch the stuffing out of if it'll make you feel better."

Lance held his glower at first, but couldn't help but break into a shaky, uncertain smile in spite of himself, even laughing a little.

A little smile played upon Keith's lips as well as he thought that maybe Allura wasn't the only one who knew what to say.

* * *

Deep below Castle Doom in the dungeons where Romelle languished, she caught wind of a rumor that astonished her. Allura had been captured and was inside the Castle somewhere! She hadn't heard how that came to be, but there seemed to be little reason to doubt it. Romelle wouldn't wish the advances of Lotor on anybody, much less her own cousin, and vowed to get out of that cell somehow and help her. It gave her renewed fight, after Lotor had nearly broken her spirit.

"You won't win yet, you beast," she muttered into the dank, miserable cell.

A moment later she could have cursed the oath to his face, for the door came open and in walked Lotor. She squinted at the flood of light that came in from the hall, and could only make out his outline at first. But there was no mistaking that silhouette. Her heart quickened and Romelle got a sick and twisted feeling in her gut. What could that animal possibly want from her now, especially since he now had his most prized possession of all?

Her female cellmates shrunk back from the dark Prince as he advanced into the room, but not Romelle. She stood her ground staring him down with measured defiance. He'd almost broken her, but not quite.

"Romelle, you look a fright," Lotor said with some amusement, taking in her tattered appearance in from head to toe.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

Lotor arched a brow. "But still sassy." With bone chilling quickness, all amusement drained from his face and Romelle couldn't fight the fear it stoked within her. He reached out and grabbed one of her arms just above the elbow roughly and drew her close to him. "We're going on a little trip. I'm sure you heard the rumors even down here by now. I have Allura."

Romelle gasped and her eyes went wide. It really was true.

"I no longer need your look-alike services," he went on, "but instead of simply tossing you in the Pit of Skulls, there's one more use for you yet. You'll help me keep your pip squeak brother in line if he dares try to help Planet Arus from the fate about to befall it."

"No!" she screamed, struggling mightily enough to break free of his grasped.

It did her little good for he backhanded her hard, sending her painfully to the uneven rocky ground below. The next thing she knew, he was ripping the long skirts of her gown off and she thought for sure he was going to have his way with her. But instead, he took the strip of fabric and used it as a makeshift gag.

"You, however, don't need to talk on this vacation from your cell," Lotor explained while yanking her upright by her hair.

* * *

Keith slowly became aware of the steady pounding of rain on the window pane. His eyes gradually opened as the weight of sleep lifted. Instead of being greeted by the light of a new day, he was startled to find it dark save for the dim orange hue the exterior lights of the castle provided. Glancing at the clock at his bedside, he realized it was not simply that he awoke during the night, but it was already into the evening the next day.

He remembered the coronation the night before. Orla looked stunning and poised, with all the familiar grace and beauty that was part of the bloodline. The Voltron Force stood by dressed in formal attire for the occasion and looking down, he noted he was still dressed in said finery. Keith sighed, wondering why those in the Castle let him sleep so long and so late. There was much to be done with Zarkon poised to attack.

And yet he lingered there in bed, listening to the driving rhythm of the rain and thinking. He thought about how Orla was so different from Allura in a lot of ways, good looks and poise seemingly where their similarities ended. He thought of how the team members each bowed before Orla, kissing her hand and pledging their allegiance to her. He'd been struck at the time by memories of how he'd done the same for Allura, although in a much less formal setting. Yes, as the reigning monarch of all the kingdoms of Arus, Keith would serve under Orla loyally and had nothing against the woman who seemed righteous and pleasant enough. But there was no replacing Allura, not in his mind. And he couldn't help but feel he did not have the same intensity driving him under Orla's rule that he'd felt when he'd made that vow to Allura amid the ruins of the old castle. In a lot of ways, it was Allura's memory that kept him there, willing him to continue the fight more that anything else.

Climbing out of bed, Keith made his way over to the window and made an effort to think toward the future instead of dwelling on the past. But it was difficult, and he found his thoughts repeatedly drifting back to Allura. Even the good memories caused tears to spring up in his eyes.

Just as he forced himself to clear his head enough to ponder a plan of action should Zarkon's forces arrive, alarms blared throughout the Castle. Time for wondering and planning were over, he realized, and made a dash for the door.

* * *

_Peeling the skin back from my eyes, I felt surprised  
that the time on the clock was the time I usually retired  
to the place where I cleared my head of you;  
but just for today, I think I'll lie here and dream of you._

I've got you under my skin where the rain can't get in,  
but if the sweat pours out, just shout I'll try to swim and pull you out.

A howling wind blows the litter as the rain flows,  
As street lamps pour orange colored shapes through your window,  
a broken soul stares from a pair of watering eyes,  
uncertain emotions force an uncertain smile...

I've got you under my skin where the rain can't get in,  
but if the sweat pours out, just shout I'll try to swim and pull you out.

_--Uncertain Smile, The The_


	4. Sweet Bird of Truth

**Love Is Stronger Than Death**

_Chapter 3: Sweet Bird of Truth_

By Purrsia Kat

_A/N: This will be the last part I post at this site. See my profile for archives where I will be updating if you wish to follow it on from this point. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I'm getting ever-more frustrated with this archive's glitches and formatting nightmares. Thanks!_

Keith had known the odds were going to be stacked against them, and as the sunrise started to break over the mountains, he was surprised they'd lasted through the night. He was now grateful he'd gotten that extra rest for it turned out he needed it. Zarkon's forces, led once again by his wicked son, had been pouring it on all night without mercy. He'd expected to see a robeast at some point, but so far, they hadn't launched one. Perhaps they thought they could take the four Lions and the Castle without one, figuring the robot fighters were easier to replace than something they poured a ton of lazon into, siphoning precious rare resources. Sort of the same reasoning they had for holding off on the blazing sword until it was absolutely necessary. It was rather universal that great shows of power always came at some cost. It was one of few laws both sides tended to adhere to.

It was a merciful break in the action that allowed Keith to ruminate on such things, and he sat in the seat of his Black Lion observing the smoldering countryside that the coming daylight was revealing. They'd had some setbacks but they were still kicking. For one thing, news got back to him that the fleet Galaxy Garrison had sent to escort the new pilot had lost contact with them, and it was strongly suspected that Mogor's fleet had given them trouble if not completely blasted them out of space. The only positive out of that situation was that Doom's forces were split up – had Mogor and Lotor hit them with combined firepower, their circumstances would have been far more dire by now. But then, now it was only a matter of time before they regrouped and did just that.

On top of that, Bandor had arrived with much-needed backup but Lotor soon put an end to that by using Romelle's life as incentive for Bandor to back off. Keith understood and he also did not want to see Romelle harmed. But on the other hand, if Arus fell there was no telling what fate would befall Romelle, Pollux and anyone else in the galaxy that would not bow to Zarkon's demands. It was a tough position to be in.

Lance came over his intercom, snapping Keith out of his grim thoughts. "Looks like we drove them back, chief," Lance noted with much hope, though Keith remained markedly skeptical.

He was just about to vocalize his doubts when Keith saw on his monitor a robeast burst from the ground, inadvertently knocking Lance's Red Lion out of the sky as it rose.

Lance's Lion crashed near the mausoleum and Keith could not raise Lance on the intercom or visually. Even worse, the Red Lion lay out in the open, exposed for anything to attack it. He ordered the remaining team to draw the robeast away and cover for him as he went to investigate.

Keith knew he'd have to go on foot. If Lance were hurt too badly, he'd have to get Red Lion out of the open and Lance back to the Castle for help. First, he landed Black Lion in the woods behind the mausoleum knowing the trees would provide his Lion some cover until he could come back for it. Keith went outside and prepared to make the trek to Red Lion, which lay just over the crest of the hill. The sky became filled once again with enemy fighters, and Keith knew he had his work cut out for him. He'd be very vulnerable once he emerged from the forest, and planned to try to make it to the mausoleum first. At least it seemed the robeast hadn't noticed the inadvertent fate it'd handed Red Lion and was content to pursue the others away from the area. That was some small consolation. Although it was obvious that none of them could provide any cover for him – Keith was on his own now.

Taking a deep breath, Keith dashed out from the safety of the forest and ran for the mausoleum. He was nearly there when a distinct shadow passed overhead. He glanced up and noted to his dismay the unmistakable shape of Lotor's ship, which resembled some sort of sleek, menacing bird. All hopes that he'd somehow go unspotted were dashed when the ship made a tight circle back around and began firing at him.

Sod and dirt flew up at Keith from the volleys, and he ran the rest of the way to the stone wall of the mausoleum in virtual blindness. When Keith reached the structure, he put his back up to it flat and tried to catch his breath. The firing had stopped, but not for long, for he spotted Lotor's vessel turning again to make another pass. He'd have to duck inside and try to weather the assault there and simply hope someone realized what was going on.

Keith ducked through the door just as Lotor unleashed his next attack. He barely had time to duck down in the corner when stained glass and pieces of casket started raining down from the blasts.

* * *

Bandor watched the scene unfold with mounting frustration. He'd been watching Lotor's movements from the sidelines ever since the Prince of Doom had dangled his gagged sister before him as incentive to behave, and felt helpless as Keith – on foot and so vulnerable – was under the gun. His hopes that Arus wouldn't need his help anyway were fast becoming dashed, and he was faced with an excruciating decision. Sacrifice Romelle to save Keith or risk Keith's demise, possibly meaning the fall of Arus and the rest of the free Denubian Galaxy and still be unsure of any of their fates afterward. After his family had been burned by Zarkon's promises before, it was hard to put much stock in Lotor's words that if he simply stood by and didn't assist Romelle would be spared.

He was young and not as experienced as many who held a similar station in the past may have been, but even he could see the writing on the wall. They had to act and do so as a united front. He was sure that's what Romelle would have wanted, especially when he thought back to the urgency in her eyes and the vehement shake of her head when he reluctantly bowed to Lotor's threats initially.

"Men," he announced to the crew on the bridge of his ship. "I want a full on attack of that ship." He indicated Lotor's fighter jet. "We've got to help Keith get out of there."

The crew exchanged worried glances.

"But sir," one of them spoke up. "What about Princess Romelle?"

Bandor fixed the crewman with a fierce glare, and he could tell the man was immediately sorry for asking. "I'm well aware of the threat against my sister, soldier. But I think you know as well as I do that Lotor would likely not spare her regardless of what we do, so we might as well go out fighting."

With no further argument, Bandor's crew directed his ship toward the mausoleum on the hill and seemingly caught Lotor by surprise.

Even with his sister's fate a question Bandor felt exhilarated to be striking back at Lotor, and he ordered his crew to keep pouring it on. He couldn't see Romelle objecting to that, either, for who knows what she'd suffered at Lotor's hands. This, as far as he was concerned, was vengeance for his entire family and his resolve strengthened not to cow to the demands of Doom.

Just when it seemed they were about to blow Lotor out of the skies once and for all, a swarm of Doom's robot fighters came up from behind and blew out his ship's engines causing it to career out of control. They had enough height and momentum to clear the mountain range past the desert, but were losing altitude fast afterwards. Bandor could make out a sea below, bordered on all sides by steep rocky cliffs. They were dropping fast and it was almost certain they would splash into the waters below, perhaps breaking apart in the process. It had all happened so fast, there wasn't time to man escape pods. There was nothing he could do but brace himself and hope Keith had enough time to get to safety.

* * *

Keith looked up when the chaos around him died down. He was covered in broken glass and shredded wood, but otherwise okay. He quickly got to his feet and tried not to look directly at the caskets in the room, which were blasted apart and toppled. It was far too morbid, he thought, and besides he had to get to Lance. But then something he caught in his peripheral vision made him look anyway. He did a double take as he noticed no body among the still-fresh and fragrant blooms that had lined Allura's final resting place. In contrast, the skeletal remains of her mother were indeed mixed in among the markedly more wilted blooms of her casket. Allura's body – it was gone!

His lip curled in contempt to think someone would be as low as to rob the grave of the much-revered Princess, but to actually take her remains too? It was unthinkable as well as plain twisted.

The blast of engines drew Keith's attention and he turned to see with measured relief it was Red Lion blasting off. Now all he had to do was get back to his Lion and help the others deal with that robeast.

As he dashed back to his Lion, Allura's empty casket nagged at his mind. For starters, he wondered why it was only Allura who was gone. Her mother by contrast was not only still there, but all the jewels she'd been laid to rest in were left untouched. If robbery was a motive, why not take those too? Plus, he kept coming back to what good kidnapping a corpse was to anybody. But there would be time to look into that once the threat of Lotor was taken care of, and so he shook the thoughts from his mind.

Once Keith took to the skies again, Lance filled him in on Bandor's efforts – which he had witnessed as he was coming to – as well as what happened to him afterward. Keith was about to change course to assist the fallen Prince of Pollux, but the robeast suddenly loomed large before him and would not be denied. For now, Keith had to hope that whatever powers from the beyond that may exist in the universe would be with the little Prince until they could get to him, for it was proving impossible for even one of them to slip away. As it stood, it would be a small miracle if the four Lions could cope with the monster before them.

* * *

Aching pain in his legs along with crashing surf stirred Bandor to consciousness. Light poured in through a gaping hole in the side of the ship, creating a swath of light, and he could see motionless crew all around. They appeared to be lodged next to one of the sea's steep cliffs from what he could see, but pretty far down – spray from the sea misted his face every time the surf crashed and he knew at high tide whoever was left wounded but alive would be drowned if they didn't get help. For his part, he was painfully pinned under a console, and couldn't free his legs.

Bandor cried out, but only the surf replied with its monotonous ebb and flow. He was the only one in earshot awake – or alive, at worst – and he lay helpless in the semi-darkness pondering his fate. He fought back tears, determined not to break down like some boy. It hurt, and he was scared. And sure there was nobody around to notice whether he cried or not, but Bandor fought it all the same. As he saw it, he had a lot to be proud of now and few regrets, although there were some things he would have liked to know such as Romelle's fate, and whether his efforts had saved Keith. At any rate, he'd tried his best and fought his hardest, and that he decided, was enough to be proud of.

The comfort of those thoughts faded, when his attention turned to someone coming around the corner of the hole in the ship. His stomach dropped to note it was two Doom robots followed closely by Lotor himself. Bandor fought in vain to move the stubborn console from him, but it was no use. He was hopelessly stuck and at Lotor's mercy.

"What have we here?" Bandor heard Lotor say as he approached. He couldn't see Lotor's face in the relative darkness, but he could hear the sneer in his tone.

Lotor paused and knelt beside Bandor, bringing his features into enough light for Bandor to really see him. "I'm not afraid of you."

Lotor cast him a look of false pity. "Who said you should fear me? I come as an angel of mercy," he added before rising to his feet again.

"Go ahead. Go ahead and pick on someone smaller than you who can't even fight back now. I don't care," Bandor continued, a sense of defiance overriding any fear.

Sighing with mock impatience, Lotor responded icily. "The fact that you're incapacitated matters little as you're no match for me regardless. What is fact is that I told you not to get involved, which you decided to do anyway."

"What are you going to do with Romelle?" Bandor hated himself for his simpering tone, but he couldn't help but ask about her.

Lotor moved enough for Bandor to see the scowl on his face. "What makes you think I haven't already done something? At any rate, her fate is for me to relish and for you to never find out."

Bandor grimaced. If Lotor had finished her off, his only comfort was to hope she was finally at peace. The next thing he knew, the flash of Lotor's unsheathed laser sword lit up the damaged bridge. Bandor hadn't enough time to utter any last words before Lotor put a swift end to his suffering.

* * *

_6 o'clock in the morning & I'm the last person in this plane  
still awake  
Y'know I can almost smell the blood washing against the shores,  
Of this land that can't forget its past.  
Oh the wind that carries this plane, is the wind of change,  
heaven sent and hell bent!  
Over the mountaintops we go, just like all the other GI Joes_

_E-I-E-I----adios!_

This is your captain calling--"with an urgent warning"  
We're above the Gulf of Arabia--"our altitude is falling"  
& I can't hold her up--"there's no time for thinking"  
All hands on deck--"this bird is sinking"

_  
Across the beaches and cranes, rivers and drains  
All the money I've made--bodies I've maimed.  
Time warps but I seemed to know,  
Just like any other GI Joe  
Should I cry like a baby, or die like a man?  
While all the planets little wars start joining hands,  
Oh what a heaven--what a hell  
Y'know there's nothing can be done in the whole wide world._

_  
I don't know what's wrong or right,  
I'm just a regular guy, with bottled up insides,  
I ain't never been to church or believed in  
Jesus Christ  
but I'm praying that God's with you when you die_

_--Sweet Bird of Truth, The The  
_


End file.
